


What's in a name?

by Quixoticzephyr



Category: She Ra - Fandom
Genre: ANNNNNGST, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixoticzephyr/pseuds/Quixoticzephyr
Summary: :3 Mindwiped!hordak angst
Relationships: entrapdak - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	What's in a name?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PenNameSmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenNameSmith/gifts).



“And so, you must be reborn,”  
And he was, Prime’s hair retracting and taking with it all the pain and confusion he had been carrying since- since before. He crumpled, as if the corruption that was purged from his body had been holding him up. His brother, wise and benevolent Prime stood over him and ordered his brothers to cart him to reconditioning. Now, without question, he knew he had a place and a purpose, not in some pocket dimension, but here, with his brothers and bathed in the light of Prime. As his brothers escorted him for medical reconditioning, he was sure that he would no longer be alone to suffer from thoughts that hid in dark shadows in his mind.  
The little brother was now the same as the others, no longer defective or displeasing to Prime. He felt a strong current that he could just let go and ride. There was nothing to be confusing or uncertain about. Without looking around, he just KNEW his brothers were all in the same flow, all working to the service and glory of Prime. The little brother knew what to do as intrinsically as he knew how to breathe. Surely, once the galaxy understood the peace and ease of letting go and dissolving into the light, then order would prevail. Life would be so much simpler, but then, that was the sacred responsibility of spreading Prime’s wisdom and guidance to those who simply did not know better. The little brother took comfort in knowing that even he, a former defect, could be cleansed and find a place with his brothers.  
“What’s that do?” The thought cut through the current like a bright fish, startling the little brother from his task. He looked around, wondering if his brothers had the same flash, gone just as quick as it had come. However, his brothers showed no sign of having been disturbed by the bubble of thought. The little brother turned back to his work and chalked the unbidden thought up to lingering detritus from reconditioning. It would pass.  
The rest of the waking cycle passed with only the pleasant presence of his brothers passing through his mind. The little brother smoothed his freshly lightened hair and settled into his dormancy pod. After some rest, he would be further refreshed in his service to Prime. All around him, green eyes just like his began to close, and the little brother allowed himself to close his own. "Glory be to Horde Prime. All have a place in service to Horde Prime. All will share his light-" the gentle hum of the pod caressed his ears, wrapping into his mind. "Let go and let Pri- Uninsulated cables!" The bubble jolted the brother out of dormancy. That wasn't the voice of Prime! The little brother glanced around, but the others in their pods remained dormant. Yet again, the disturbance was only with him. Perhaps Prime would sense the anomalies if they persisted. The little brother settled back against his headrest and focused on the incessant murmur of the pod.  
 _He raises his arm and fires red plasma at the Salineas Gate. Somewhere, a woman is talking about Prime and princesses, but he only feels justified in bringing a betrayal to his betrayer. The salt mist is like sparks on his face, and he wants her to see what he is capable of, what he has built. Smoke billows from Salineas, and he silently dares her to show her hand and face him. He hopes she will face him…._  
When the little brother woke, he grimaced. Still, some shadows of before lurked in his mind, surely left behind from his baptism by light. A dream of a victorious conquest left him waking feeling….wrong. Victory in the name of Prime is their very purpose and the ultimate act of service. And yet, something wriggled in his stomach, whispering that the vision of the Sea Gate did not feel glorious. The little brother frowned, knowing that he could not truly flow with his brothers until these lingering differences let him go. Was he so defective that he couldn't even be reconditioned correctly? The little brother shook his head and allowed the inexorable current of tasks to pour into his awareness.

Bot repair today. The little brother enjoyed the simplicity of identifying and correcting deficiencies, and the soldering pen felt natural in his hand. Truly Prime knew the best role for his workers, even the defective brothers like himself. Even though the workshop was dimmer than other areas of the ship, but there was comfort in tables littered with chips and wires.  
The bots under his hands were transformed from sparking, dead-eyed, or staggering trash, to gleaming, symmetrical, identical tools. He buffed and polished and welded and had the most fleeting desire for a connection with the beings he repaired. Even if they were loud and still had sticking legs- no, that would be impractical for spreading the glory of Prime’s light. Surrounded by brothers, on the same vessel as Prime himself, there was no need to fraternize with glitching equipment. To name these devices would be the most wasteful foolishness  
Even without a hive mind, it would be no secret on an enclosed ship that an Etherian queen and new little sister were on board. He could not articulate why, but the little brother felt relief when his assignments were anywhere else on board. All tasks were parsed out to use him and his brothers to greatest efficacy, and surely one role could not be preferable to another. The little sister was different from her brothers, but Prime himself named her as part of the Horde. His designation alone should have been enough for the little brother to view her protection as any other service, but still, there was a loosening in his chest any time he was pointed to the bots, the galley, or even cleaning. Perhaps it was the imperfections creating this unease, and until they passed, he could not trust himself with the little sister's care. It made perfect sense.  
 _Did it, though?_  
Even the asking of this question was proof that the little brother was still recovering from before. Prime had not sensed this condition, this lingering aberration, had not summoned him to correct it. The little brother would not bother his progenitor with such an issue; Prime surely knew and saw all. In service of, he would work towards perfection. He would focus on his assigned tasks and cherish them equally, including cultivating the discipline to overcome his deficiencies.  
As waking and dormant cycles passed, the little brother focused fully on his work. When the strange thoughts flickered, he thought on the glory of Prime, what the whole of the Horde was working to deliver to the galaxy. He thought of Prime’s wisdom, and he tried to focus on the light of Prime when shadowy feelings lurked in his mind. He remembered the caress of Prime's purple hair on his cheeks- No, Prime’s glorious tendrils had firmly fit into his ports, and were never purple. There were moments, when he was activating a force shield as he left a chamber, or parsed out liquid rations for his brothers when he anticipated his imperfection to rear her- its head. The little brother told himself that refocusing on the light of Prime was a worthy exercise. He didn't want to be flawed, but if that was his fate, then he would do what they all were created to do. Silently, he challenged the thoughts to do their worst. He was ready with the sterile, cool light of Prime to counter the messy intrusions. "Glory be to Prime, soup makes everyone feel better," he would mutter to himself as he passed out rations. He knew who he was: a little brother to the glorious Prime.  
One place he could not use the light of Prime to cleanse his thoughts was alone in his dormancy pod. When his eyes closed, warmth crept behind his eyelids. Hot, chaotic visions stuttered between the endless murmur of his pod.

 _A round-cheeked little one with glowing eyes repeats a word in the little brother’s own voice, “Entrapta, Entrapta, Entrapta.” Salt water stings his face again, but the Etherian sea was not here, in the sanctum. The word stabs into the little brother. If I had known, the little brother thinks, and the uncomfortable prickling spreads throughout his body as the words “Entrapta, Entrapta,” cut into the tight place in his chest. **I would have come, if I had known.**_  
He woke, blinking in the cool, sterile light. No strange words could hurt him in the protection of Prime. His face was dry of any errant salt water. He breathed and focused on the glory of his mission, and the prickles in his chest subsided somewhat. Around him, dozens of identical faces opened their identical eyes and automatically began their tasks. The little brother stole a second away from his own duty to examine his brothers for any sign that they may have similar visions in their dormancy pods. If they did, the placid faces around him didn’t reveal anything. There certainly was nothing in the shared current of thought that indicated that any other brother carried a flaw like his.  
The flawless brothers looked so content, were so content, and the little brother reminded himself why it was so crucial to get his intrusions under control. Like a bot with a sticking leg, he could never seamlessly fold into the gleaming phalanx of the Horde until he worked harder at his own purity. Still, Prime did not come to him to remedy the symptoms. Surely, the little brother was being chosen to overcome his weakness to truly belong with his brothers. As the little brother yielded his pod to a brother coming into his dormancy, he silently promised he would prove his conviction, his devotion, and most of all- his worthiness to Prime's light. The thought was a cooling balm to soothe the discomforting heat of the night vision.  
I hope she faces me-the echo of nothing more than weakness. _We'll just keep working at it until it's perfect-_ and the little brother's breath caught. Warm and gentle, and his chest grew taut. This voice dared to think it could encourage HIM? What sort of taunting is this? Very well, he nodded and mechanically inhaled. Glory be to Prime, he exhaled, bathing his mind in stark, orderly light. His feet carried him automatically down the corridors of the Velvet Glove, and he felt satisfied to have bested his flaw again. If any brothers had been looking, they may have seen his smile set in determination. A small distinction from the gentle, blank faces flowing around him, but the brother moved onward in his resolve.  
A cold shiver trickled down his spine as he approached today’s assignment. The reconditioning chamber. Today, he would be able to spread the light of Prime and guide sullied brothers back onto the path of righteousness. The sense of justice thrummed through himself and the others as they assumed their positions within the chamber. Curiosity and wariness buzzed from one brother to another. Together, they knew a defect was coming, someone who chose to be different. Like his bots, the little brother knew that they had the resources to help fix what the ailing brother could not do for himself.  
Two brothers brought in another, and the little brother gasped to himself. Prime had gifted them each with beautiful, snow-white hair, and their brother had seen fit to make his hair green. “It is to the glory of Prime that I have done this,” the blasphemer protested. I do not need this- Prime knows what I have done is in his name. Please-”  
The little brother automatically began assembling vials from a cabinet as silent instructions guided his hands. No brother spoke, save for the transgressor, who continued to plead his case. “Prime, glorious Prime, you know this is in your name- please, I do not need to be reconditioned. Brothers, you must feel and know what I say is true!” The little brother frowned, thinking to himself that this brother must have been very ill and confused to resist a re-christening of light. He could feel the conviction of his brother, and the sameness to his own internal struggle jolted him for a half-second. The little brother quickly recovered his nerve, and reminded himself that it was not that long ago that Prime himself had reoriented him to the right path. He could not remember his own time in the chair after Prime's caress, but he liked to think he carried himself with dignity and honor.  
The little brother passed the requisite vials to a brother who stretched his hand out expectantly. His own hands now emptied, he found his eyes drawn to the aberrant hair. Within moments, he knew it would be cleansed, purged from their sight. "This does not help the cause of Prime," he muttered, hoping to offer comfort with the admonishment. "You have been created and chosen for his service, and he has seen fit to bring you back to grace, like a lost child. You will be worthy again. " these words, he had turned over and over in his own mind with his own struggle, but as they crossed his lips, they felt….misplaced. This brother had chosen to differentiate himself…. in the name of Prime. He had sought difference from the blessed brotherhood, which was wrong. It was a misguided attempt to honor and love their creator.  
We'll just keep working-no. Not now.- until it's perfect. Heat tinged his ears,and he quickly strode to stare at a screen of vital signs. Data flashed before his eyes, and he tried to focus on the numbers as his brothers attached cables to the sick brother's ports. Blood pressure spiked on the screen; his own heart pounded. Somewhere out of his body, a chant sparked, ignited, engulfed them as light flooded into the blasphemer. Words ceaselessly poured from the little brother's mouth as the healing caused the other brother to writhe, contort, and collapse against his restraints.  
As the color bleached away from the former apostate’s eyes and hair, the chant gradually faded, as if by the turn of a knob. The brother, now restored to rectitude, was unbound and carted away. The chamber gradually emptied, and the little brother lingered after turning the lights in the chamber off. He remained, with his hand on the power panel, as his ears echoed with the extreme jubilation and pain which had filled the room just moments before. No voice interrupted the thrumming in the little brother’s ears. “We must suffer to be pure,” he muttered to himself, to whatever created the voice in his head. There was no answer.

 _The Etherian king is en route to Beast Island. The princesses are retreating to lick their wounds in their own kingdoms. Today has been a major surge forward in bringing light and order to this unruly backwater planet. Truly, he will be found and welcomed home. He is proving his worth to Prime; he is accomplishing more than any defect could be expected to! He instructs Shadow Weaver to obtain superior protein rations to celebrate and show his love to those who serve him. The door closes behind the old witch, and he can hear the muffled, joyous celebration, hear them chanting HIS name-_  
 _A flash, and now the sanctum is quiet. The silence echoes and rings in his ears, as if the very air misses a presence, a voice. He looks expectantly to the rafters, hoping to see her welding mask or hear the sound of tinkering. Not even Imp scurries along the myriad pipes and cables overhead. He is alone, and he aches for even a beep from Emily._  
 _“If I had known-” the words come again, the words that tainted the memory of conquering Salineas. A figure appears before him, green and smirking, “Look at your face. It’s like you had no idea.” Their tone is cruelty masked in false sympathy. “You had her sent to Beast Island. She must have done something pretty bad to get sent there, but hey, that’s why you’re the big boss, huh?”_  
 _Lava boils in his chest, erupting in a scream- he sees his brother protesting that he had transgressed in their maker’s name, to please let him be- a gentle smile, promising they could work together as long as it took-_  
The little brother forced himself out of dormancy, breathing raggedly as he reoriented himself to the present. The others in the pods nearest him stirred, then quieted as the little brother calmed himself. Whatever lurked in his memories was dangerous and had pulled him away from his focus and service. Someone had left a burning ache in him, and he knew it was Prime’s will and wisdom to balm that wound. The visions showed him a world of loneliness and loss, nothing like the brotherhood here and now. Before long, the others all awoke, as regular as a timepiece, and their consciousness tickled at the edges of his mind, still warm and throbbing from the nighttime vision.  
Today’s assignment came with personal words from Prime, as gentle and sure as any benevolent parent, “We must keep an eye on our little sister today, to help her stay out of certain corridors. She is prone to wandering, so let’s help her not to go astray,” and the little brother felt his feet automatically carry him to his post for today. Silently, he praised and thanked Prime for this direct message. Having been touched by their maker, he felt a renewed dedication to order and discipline.  
The clattering of her feet dashing down the corridor reached his ears before he saw her. An old reflex, the words slipped out of his mouth, "This corridor is off limits, Catra," before he could stop himself. She peered at him, scrutinizing what he hoped was a blank expression.  
A moment that was an eternity trickled by, and she called him a name. "Hordak," she labeled him and smiled shyly, guiltily. "It's nice to see a familiar face," she added as if she hadn't dropped a lit match into his mind.  
"Move along, little sister," he growled in response as he felt the name ignite an unbearable heat in him. He watched her leave and listened for her footsteps to retreat, and only when silence descended again could he breathe into constricted lungs.  
Hordak- no, he was a nameless brother of Prime. Like the winged child from his vision, the name clanged and tolled over and over in his thoughts. Catra knew him before- Catra had sent her away. The little brother clenched his hands behind his back and tried to think of the mantras he shared with his brothers, but the flowing comfort stuttered as his defective mind betrayed him. She smiled at me, like she wanted to apologize. She saw me and NAMED me and left like it was nothing. The little brother's ears twitched, and he gripped his hands tighter, willing himself to breathe and focus until he was relieved of his post.  
He sank into his dormancy pod, and his defective mind took him down.  
 _She flips her welding mask up and beams. "Tiny snacks!" She chirps to her Emily. The droid beeps in response. Entrapta turns to him, a small tidbit balanced on one of her constantly moving pigtails. "Hordak! Tiny snacks are crucial for scientific endeavors." His chest inflates with a pleasant warmth. His hand grazes her hair, and he is struck by a desire to plunge his fingers deeper into the lilac depths. He takes the proffered treat, and a smile unfurls. Maybe he can stay- after all, Prime would expect perfection of his portal machine-_  
 _We'll keep working at it, until it's perfect- he sees now, how clearly she asks him to stay with her and Emily and Imp. They can stay and work together, if only he chooses her. She wants him, defects and all. He wants to bask in her light, to inspire the mad brilliance in her eyes. He reaches for her gloved hand, promising that he will not repeat his mistake-_  
 _Darkness falls, and the warmth seeps away with it. If I had known she sent you away- Catra's eyes widen as she backs away from him. Hurt and rage froth and churn as the salt water pricks his eyes. I would have come for Entrapta. The plasma cannon fires, and he knows this cannot bring her back to him. No one comes back from Beast Island, and Catra sent her there. He had waged war, while his little fool suffered alone. Catra knew the entire time and Hordak feels his heart shatter-_  
He tore himself off the connectors of his dormancy pod. He can barely feel his brothers under the roar of rediscovered grief. Entrapta could not be alive, and Catra had sent her to her death. He had been the true fool in choosing to move ahead, away from her. Hot tears stung his cheeks, and hurt clawed like hot bile in his throat. He staggered away from his pod as the relentless memories pounded him.  
Hordak was lost and broken. That name belonged to a pitiful wreck who had failed again and again and again. Failed as a soldier of Prime, failed to see the juvenile tricks of his own followers, failed to see that he had been wanted by the worthiest lab partner. She would never navigate the Fright Zone air ducts or make a bubble blowing bot, just because. She wouldn't pat Emily or reach for tools with her hair. He crushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, but he was too weak to reorient his thoughts in the light of Prime.  
Take it away, he whimpered to the thoughts. If I cannot be by her side, what good is this name!?


End file.
